DGrayman - Desert Punk Crossover
by Abhored
Summary: The legendary, cocky Desert Punk, is knocked unconscious and wakes up in an odd land, apparently dating back to the Dark Ages. His shotgun is embedded with something called "Innocence" and to return to his desert, he has to collect samples of "Akuma Blood" whatever that means.


Kanta was going about his everyday life, swinging from building to building, just having a merry time, collecting bounties and chasing the ever beautiful, yet deceptive, Junko. Cocky as he usually is he decided to try and attempt a few spins in the air while swinging from ruined skyscraper to ruined skyscraper. "This is the most fun I've had since downing that trash can Fire Desert Kong!" He exclaimed having tons of fun. This was until of course, he miscalculated his shot, and missed the pole he was aiming for, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" he thought to himself as he began plummeting towards a rather dark hole he didn't recall seeing before. He began to curse to the heavens as he descended into darkness.  
(Dreaming)  
He awoke on what appeared to be, a rather uncomfortable rug on a wooden floor. His head flooded with questions, firstly though, "check your equipment", and make sure you haven't been robbed. This was almost a natural habit from his years of the grueling bandits and thieves of The Great Kanto Desert. "Where's my shotgun?!" he whispered to himself. His shotgun was a memento from his father and had been his signature weapon for years. He looked around, and appeared to be in a rundown shack painted a very bright white. He pulled himself up and slowly made his way to the next room.

This next room was even brighter than the last, as if the paint itself was giving off light. In between the cracks in the rotting wood, he peered outside and saw nothing but pure darkness. He enabled the x-57 surveillance module on his survival helmet allowing him to be capable of hearing the footsteps of something as small as a mouse, yet aside from his breathing, it was absolute silence. He looked across the room and saw another door that seemed to have a dark liquid splattered on the door. He pressed his gloved fingers against it and raised it to his nasal breathing vents. "It kinda smells like oil." He thought to himself. "This just keeps getting more and more bizarre." Kanta whispered to himself as he wiped the "oil" off onto his combat vest. He opened the door and, lying at the end of the room lay his trusty shotgun. He became giddy with excitement and rushed toward his weapon. As he approached it, it began to glow, just like the previous room's walls. He hadn't noticed until now but this room's walls were also covered in the oil-like substance. As he bent over to cuddle his long lost gun, he heard a faint whisper. He grabbed the weapon, spun 180° on his right heel and left toes to a crouched aiming position. "Show yourself you creepy coward! And what the hell have you done to my Trench-Gun?!"  
"Kanta, you have been brought here to fulfill a great task, few else are great enough for such a challenge, but you, the legendary Demon of the Desert, The Desert Punk, maybe be able to succeed." said the voice. Kanta was pushing all of his survielience equipment to the maximum, but there was simply nobody there. "Yeah?" he replied in a loud yet calm tone "What makes you think I'd be willing to help you? I already have a very busy schedule." He turned his gear down to their normal levels, except for his x-57 kit. He had noticed that he had to listen very closely to register what it was the voice was saying to him. "So, if I were to help you, strange voice, what do I get from it?" he called out. The voice responded "I realize in your time, water is a rather scarce thing. If you were to assist in this journey I will grant you 10000 pounds, and the "Bottle of Eternal Springs" a bottle which , as it sounds, will never empty of fresh water. "That sounds a bit far fetched dontcha think?" Kanta responded as he decided to sit down.  
He noticed a circular water jug had materialized in front of him. "Go ahead, try and empty it" the voice commanded. "This is ridiculous." Desert Punk thought to himself. He took the jug, which already felt as if it was empty, tipped it over and watched the water begin to flow out.  
A few minutes passed, he sat dumb-founded. "It should be freakin dry by now." he thought to himself. "Alright, so what do you need ME to do?" He had a feeling he was in for quite a stry, so he stuck a straw in the bottle and began to drink. "I probably shouldn't take off my helmet, that oil shit might be toxic er something..." he pondered as he removed his sun-shade hat and sipped the refreshing water from the bottle.


End file.
